Apocalypse Autumn
by PhoenixWormwood137
Summary: Ferb sets out to win a girl's heart - but he has no idea what he's getting himself into. Beliefs will be challenged, questions raised, and wars will threaten to burn away Ferb's dreams. Read and review, please
1. Prologue

**So – here it is! My story!**

**Thanks to ****Crazy CM Fan100 for t****he comments, encouragement, and ideas!**

**I present to you a tale, formed with characters and settings I do not own, but that are quite dear to me. :) Please review!**

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><p><strong>Apocalypse Autumn<strong>

Prologue

"Fall's my favorite season... so glad it's almost here."

Ferb Fletcher sat under a bare tree in the park, all his skin numb except for his right hand, which was clutched in Vanessa's freezing fingers, and thought of sweet cider, of pumpkins and apple pie and cinnamon and leaves blazing gold before nodding to his girlfriend's statement and giving her hand a squeeze.

"Your favorite season's summer, though, isn't it?" Vanessa looked at him expectantly, but Ferb just smiled. "Ferb, talk to me," she said. "I like it when you talk."

"Yes, summer is my favorite season. But I enjoy autumn, as well. It's beautiful…"

He leaned close, so his lips were shading Vanessa's. "Beautiful like –"

As his mouth moved, it almost brushed hers. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed and peaceful – it was picture-perfect – picture-perfect – almost.

He didn't kiss her.

She moved forward to meet him, but he drew away and shook his head.

"Come _on_," she moaned. "We've been dating for – ever. Can't you kiss me? Are you scared?"

He shook his head again, a smile flickering on his mouth.

"Why don't you kiss me, then?" Vanessa demanded.

"Stop making me talk," Ferb said, playfully indignant. "It doesn't feel right. I'm only seventeen. I'm not ready yet."

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><p>Electricity. Yes, that was it, electricity.<p>

A different kind. Not the sort he felt when he was close to Vanessa. It was more like the sharp, burning shock that had coursed through him that time he was fiddling with an invention and it went wrong.

His hand was sweaty – it was hard to hold the cell phone to his ear. The bedroom around him reeled and spun, the bed beneath him was suddenly unsteady.

He had misheard. He had misheard. He had misheard.

"It's all my fault," said a gravelly voice said on the other end of the phone. "If I –"

"What did you say?"

Ferb clutched the cell phone to his ear, heart in his throat. "What did you say about Vanessa?"

The only sounds in the world were the sobs, the broken, despairing sobs. Ferb waited patiently, trying to regain control over his feelings, using logic to defeat his emotions. He could _not_ have heard right.

The crying went on for so long that Ferb took a deep breath and spoke again.

His voice came out calm and steady, chant-like and clear. The only sign of his suppressed fright was the British accent, which he had toned down over the years to avoid being made fun of in high school. It came welling up into his speech again as he said, "Doctor D, please, I don't think I heard you right. What did you say?"


	2. Broken and Healed

Chapter 1

Broken And Healed

"Come downstairs, honey."

Ferb shook his head.

"Come on." Linda Flynn-Fletcher ruffled her stepson's limp green hair, tears catching in her throat at the sight of the boy's distress. "It'll do you good."

Ferb pressed his face into the mattress, grinding back and forth in the soft material – shaking his head again.

Linda sat there, staring at the distraught teenager with a worried expression, rocking ever so slightly on the bed.

To Ferb, every time she moved was an extreme annoyance. With such a huge, painful loss staring him in the face, he would've expected himself to be tolerant and understanding around other people, ignoring the little things because he had larger problems. But, in truth, Vanessa's death was like a massive, burning magnifying glass, showing him all the tiny things he had never counted as nuisances. Now any other human being, anyone who tried to comfort him, anyone who made loud noise or acted strangely, irked him unbelievably. And Linda's incessant rocking motion was unnecessary and disrupting.

He swept a hand up sharply, and Linda stopped.

"Your brother's home," she said.

_Oh, not him,_ Ferb thought, and let his hand fall flaccidly back onto his blankets.

"Don't be that way," Linda said, reading the action correctly. "He could always cheer you up before."

Ferb turned over, staring up at his stepmother. He looked worse than she thought he would – there were dark circles, like bruises, under his eyes, which were red and sore and dim with crying. They were half open, worn out, and his mouth was twisted downward. "This is different," he said, his voice empty, his British accent fading in and out, as if his subconscious was undecided – did it matter, right now, or not?

The door creaked, and Ferb froze as a sixteen-year-old redhead peered into the room.

"Hey, Ferb," the boy said.

"Phineas," Ferb acknowledged coldly, eyes on the floor.

Linda smiled, but there was something nervous about the way she stood up and went to the boy at the door, greeting him with a kiss on the forehead. And there was definitely an anxious note in the voice she used to say, "I'll leave you two, I guess…"

The door closed behind her, and Phineas approached his stepbrother.

He swallowed. "Are you – okay?"

Ferb gave him a blank look, but his hooded eyes and sleepless face answered for him.

Phineas sat down on the very edge of Ferb's mattress. "Ummm…"

"Why are you here?"

Phineas drew back, wrapping his arms around his chest as if Ferb had jabbed a knife at his ribs.

"I wanted to be here for you – if you – needed me."

"I don't. Go back to school."

"Ferb, please don't be mad! Can't you drop it, bro?"

Ferb said nothing.

Phineas sighed and ran a hand across his angled face. "Summer school isn't, like, against the law. You're the one who decided to stay behind with your girlfriend –"

It was Ferb's turn to pull back, and Phineas put his hands over his mouth. "I didn't mean to talk about her! Sorry!"

"Don't be."

The two words were icy enough to freeze Phineas' bones – sarcastic, hateful, full of ill-disguised pain.

Phineas blinked furiously, his eyes too bright. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered desperately.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Ferb was silent.

"How'd it happen?"

Ferb gave an aggravated sigh. Did Phineas really expect him to re-live that horrible phone call? To remember Dr. D's wails as the older man related the events? Besides, he couldn't really tell Phineas. He didn't exactly know what had happened – it was sort of hard to decipher Dr. D's message under the crying and the German accent.

All he knew was that Vanessa was dead, and it was Dr. D's fault. Her own father had been her killer. Obviously, it was an accident – but – it was hard to forgive. Hard to feel any emotion besides pain, sadness, fear, and anger.

"Ferb?"

"Leave me alone," Ferb mumbled.

Ringing silence.

"Okay," Phineas said, his mouth scrunched up as if he was trying not to cry.

He stood, his movements jerky, and shut the door with a sharp yank – but not before Ferb caught a deep sigh from his brother's mouth.

In all the years, all the time the brothers had been there for each other, neither of them had ever pushed the other away, and Ferb's conscience prodded him slightly, making him more uncomfortable than he was already. He tried to shut it up with a few muttered words of justification, and rolled over so his face was in the mattress again.

He felt sick to his stomach. He had barely touched breakfast, but the little food he had forced down was mounting in his throat in waves of horrible nausea. Cold sweat plastered his matted green hair to his forehead.

He had never lost a loved one before, so he had been unprepared for the dizzy grief, the empty place in his chest. Unprepared for the blind fear, the blind sobs, and the blind rage at the world and everything in it.

The door gave another groan, and Ferb mimicked its sound. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? "Go away, already," he growled into the bedsheets.

A hand touched his arm, and he shook it off. The hand felt like it was in a mitten – a soft mitten – why would someone be wearing a mitten in August?

He opened his eyes half-heartedly and received the second largest shock he could ever remember.

There was a platypus standing beside him, its paw resting sympathetically on his hand. A stylish 1940s fedora rested lightly on its blue head, a watch glittered on its furry wrist, and its duckbill was curved into a compassionate expression.

All in all, it was like nothing Ferb had ever seen before. Except for the eyes. He could never forget the eyes. Big, brown, shiny – Perry's eyes.

He said nothing - just stared into those chocolate pupils.

The platypus took his hand and led him from the room. Ferb followed, not really caring where they went. It didn't seem to matter as much as it would've before. He was probably hallucinating, anyway – the doctor had most likely put him on drugs to lift his depression, drugs that had messed with his head.

But the part of his brain pleading "crazy" wasn't the sensible part – it was the imaginative bit. Because deep down inside, he knew it was real.

The platypus led him through the house, peeking around corners furtively, finally ending up in the empty living room. Ferb watched in silence as Perry removed the mirror that hung behind their couch, revealed the entrance to a tube large enough for a platypus – or a skinny boy.

Perry motioned him to enter it, and Ferb followed the direction without much thought. What did he really have to lose?

He came down on a soft chair, slipped off, and was halfway to finding his feet again when he caught sight of the room around him. There were gadgets and gizmos. There were doohickeys and whatchamacallits. They were things Ferb would've given anything to tinker with – before. Before Phineas left for summer school, before Vanessa left for higher places. But they still took his breath away.

He knelt on the cold, smooth floor, looking around, tuned out from the events happening around him like he always seemed to be.

He didn't notice Perry come in.

But even the most oblivious kid in the world would notice if his beloved pet put a ray gun to his forehead.

Ferb drew a deep breath, weighing the possibility of having a second left to live. Either he would see Vanessa again, or his pet would prove dependable and spare him.

_This is better,_ he thought, as Perry's finger tightened on the trigger.

But instead of pain, or rushing blackness, instead of revelations in the light, he felt heat flooding his brain. It only lasted a second – and then memories crashed down upon him. First the most important ones, the ones he had been clinging to for days –

_The soft pressure of her body against his own, the pattering of little glass containers bouncing off the umbrella he holds above his crush – not their first touch, but the first one to set his heart racing. If only she would lie in his arms forever – but no – she's getting up, running off-_

_._

_She just kissed him. He's still in shock, those pink and yellow flowers are still hovering in his mind's eye. On the cheek but better than he ever could've imagined -_

_._

_Thick and fast, their times together flood through his mind - their first date, the day she agreed to be his girlfriend – the grin she wore when she bid him goodbye that fateful day – the day she died._

_._

_And now the new memories, not of her, but of other, unfamiliar things, things like mine cars and Norm-bots and a huge amnesia-causing ray pointed straight at him – Isabella and Phineas' first kiss – their _real_ first kiss, not the one that happened just a few months ago, when the redhead left for summer school –_

_._

Ferb was jarred back into the real world by that unpleasant thought, the bout of anger bleeding forth from that tender spot where he nursed the resentment. And along with the fury came apathy – why had Perry taken him here, restored his memory? Did it really matter? _Phineas _wasn't here – _he_ would've been excited by the thought of multiple dimensions to explore, but with Vanessa gone, Ferb definitely didn't feel up to the job. Fun wasn't really on his radar anymore – summer didn't belong to him – that was a past dream. Parallel universes weren't –

Parallel universes –

Brand new realities –

Ferb hesitated for the slightest instant – physical contact usually wasn't his cup of tea – then decided his pet deserved it. He ran to Perry, wrapping him in a bone-cracking hug. "Thank you!" he whispered into the silky blue fur, choking back happy tears. "How can I ever repay you?"

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><p><strong>Somehow I feel like that chapter wasn't up to my usual standard. I'm feeling a little down, though, so it might just be my nasty internal editor. If you review (I'd like that :) could you be brutally honest, detailing my many shortcomings? Please? Thanks :D<strong>

**A note on the chapters: this will probably be my fastest chapter update. I don't have this story pre-written, and I'm not a very fast writer, so there might be a slight pause (like, maybe a week) between each chapter. Sorry for any inconvenience :)**


	3. Progress

Chapter 2

Progress

The scrapyard would be perfect.

Ferb looked out over the sprawling rubbish piles, clutching a bag bulging with metal and plastic, and mentally ran over his plans.

"This'll be easy," he told the platypus beside him.

Perry chattered.

"No, really." Ferb knelt down and spread out the tools and parts he had brought with him, and started sifting through the tin can stuffed full of screws he had brought. His expression was intense, his eyes blazing as if he was trying to x-ray the metal in search for the perfect building materials.

Ferb was used to building things. It was certainly different without Phineas around – in former years, a quirky working song seemed to always play in his head while he constructed things, and there had always been someone beside him, smiling and giving advice. His hands had been soft and smooth – never exposed to dangerous work.

But when Phineas left for summer school, Ferb had taken all the work upon himself, and without the safety measures, the encouragement, and the companionship, his hands had become rough, scarred in some places and too smooth in others – gone was the softness, the gentle, innocent skin. But Ferb had learned things since Phineas left, things that would help him now.

After about fifteen minutes, though, the work began to overwhelm Ferb.

He needed a dreamer.

He ran a thumb over his forehead, wiping the perspiration away, then reached for his hammer again. On the way down, his fingers paused momentarily over the pocket in his purple overalls, shaking with indecision.

His love for Vanessa and his bitterness against his brother fought a painful battle in his aching skull, but in the end, he shook himself and went back to piecing together the contorted contraption he was working on.

He didn't need his brother's help to build an other-dimension-ator. Phineas couldn't contribute anything –

_That's a lie._

Ferb put his head in his hands. His brother could bring so much to this project. He would make it faster, easier. And he was at home, so effortlessly called upon. For the first time in years, Phineas was actually _there_ for Ferb.

But something in Ferb rebelled against the thought of letting Phineas help him when he had been defiantly self-sufficient for such a long time.

"What do you think, Perry?" Ferb said.

There was no answering chatter.

Ferb looked around, but couldn't catch a glimpse of a tangerine duckbill, couldn't see a single tuft of teal blue fur.

"Perry?"

Again, nothing but silence.

Ferb sighed, looked down at the collection of old spare parts he had found, and sighed, feeling hopelessly alone.

His hand inched toward the cell phone again.

And that's when he heard the platypus chatter.

He looked up to see his pet set down a box in front of him.

Ferb opened the lid, and saw a collection of little mechanical parts – all of them random and complex. Parts he could use, parts he was sure Phineas would've recommended.

He looked up questioningly at Perry, and the platypus tipped his hat to him.

"Your nemesis?" Ferb asked, and Perry nodded.

"Whoa," Ferb said, running his hand through the metal knickknacks. "Thank you again…"

It didn't take long to build the machine with Perry's nemesis' spare parts, and Ferb's hands, usually solid as stone, began to tremble as the project neared completion.

And he began to have second thoughts.

But when have second thoughts ever stood in the way of true love?

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><p><strong>Sorry it's short! On the upside, the next chapter SHOULD be out soon. Because I'm an<strong>** inconsistent**** person :)**

**Any reviews? Thoughts? Psychotic rants brought on by my terrible writing?**


	4. Impulsive

**Sorry this was so long in coming... I told you I was inconsistent! :)**

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

Impulsive

"Whoa."

Ferb stood in front of the hole he had just ripped in the fabric of the universe, running his hands through his hair and questioning all he had ever known.

He had next to no plan. This wasn't like him. He usually had every detail mapped- he was becoming his brother.

He shook his head at this thought, keeping his eyes on the purple and green view that the portal offered. He would never be Phineas. There were hundreds of differences between he and his brother – hundreds –

"Like what?" A small voice in his head throbbed out the horrible message. "You're Phineas."

_NO!_

_I'm different! I am! I'm doing this for love, he'd never – he's too committed to home –_

_Maybe I should be committed to my family, as well–_

Ferb wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to hold himself together. There were many differences that he hadn't thought of. He just had to realize. He just had to be his own person! As for his family, well, they'd be fine without him. At best, they would figure he just needed a few days to himself and leave him alone. At worst – well, they could search every corner of Danville for him, and then come to the conclusion that he had committed suicide, or been kidnapped. But then he'd be back, Vanessa in his arms, and everything would be fine.

Ferb put his hands on the rim of the hole his invention had punched through to the alternate dimension. The edge felt slippery and rubbery, slick with electricity that ran up and down his arms and through his whole body.

Then he jumped.

He vaulted through, into the world of dreams and hidden memories, and saluted his pet platypus, who stood in ordinary, mundane Danville. Perry saluted back, silently wishing his owner good luck, and then tossed Ferb the backpack of survival tools they had prepared.

Ferb caught it, and the mute platypus and the boy of few words stared at each other.

Then the portal closed.

Ferb looked around, shouldering his backpack and shivering in a sudden musty wind. He was in an abandoned city square, surrounded by tall, decomposing buildings. The sky above him was pink and ragged, bloody clouds floating across it like scum on ocean waves, and the flagstones beneath his feet were damp and crusted with sickly brown moss.

Ferb swallowed hard, and strained his ears for voices.

There were none. Only the whistling of the wind could be heard over the roaring silence.

Ferb took a few steps forward. He opened his mouth to call, but his voice wouldn't come. It was like a bad dream – he was isolated, alone, silent. Three things he normally _elected_ to be had now turned on him.

He looked down, and realized that there was something written on the flagstone beneath his sneakers – not like graffiti or other signs of vandalism. This inscription was ancient.

He could make out an "I" – now an "S" – an "A" – next, a "B" –

Ice cut his skin, continued past his heart and burst out through his back. His whole body convulsed with cold, flesh turned to goose bumps.

Ferb clutched the place the shard of pain had skewered him, but when he looked down, there was no blood.

It had all been in his head.

_I have to get away from here,_ he thought, some animal instinct screaming for him to run before he could decipher the whole message and _know_ what it said. He turned and stumbled away down an alley.

Fear choked him as he made his way down the dark narrow side street. Rubble had piled overhead, turning the alley into a claustrophobic tunnel. There could be anyone down here. Anyone. Criminals, drug-dealers – Ferb half-expected somebody with haunting eyes and a gaunt, unshaven face to lunge out of the dark.

_This is __**Danville,**_ he thought feverishly. _How did it go so badly wrong? Where am I, really? What was that writing back there? Is Vanessa even – I mean, is she dead in this dimension, as well? What if I -_

A horrible smell met him, and he covered his nose and kept on his way. The thought of the silent square behind him was more frightening than the stench assailing him, making his eyes water. The square was otherworldly – bad smells were comparatively normal.

His shoe came down on something soft, and he jumped back, shutting his mouth against a small, sharp little scream, and the vomit that had risen at the sight of the roadblock in front of him.

Anyone else's mind would have stopped working for a minute. Ferb didn't have the blessing of numb shock as he stared at the body lying at his feet - his brain was too well trained, he couldn't switch it off. He _had_ to ask himself what was going on, to _absorb_ the horror.

Forgetting the smell, he fell to his knees beside the corpse, eyes dry, but stinging. He did what he could, knowing it was pointless – closed the striking, sky-blue eyes, brushed the dry blood off the pale, slack face, shooed the flies away.

Then he cried, threw up, and melted down into a salty, bloody mess.

"Who the heck are you?"

The voice was sharp and aggressive. Ferb looked up, tried to swallow his tears, then decided that his dignity was already broken beyond repair and let them flow.

"Adyson?" he hiccupped.

"Yeah." Adyson Sweetwater looked at the body that lay between them. "_Did you kill him_?"

Ferb's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

Adyson's face was lit with fire. The innocent Fireside Girl Ferb knew in his home dimension was indistinguishable beneath the anger that shook her small, sunburnt frame.

"You're Fletcher," she spat. "Ferb Fletcher, from another dimension. Aren't you? And you killed –"

Another figure stepped from behind her, putting a hand on her arm.

"Sweetheart, Jeremy was reported missing two days ago - I don't think Ferb here had anything to do with it."

It was Phineas, but Phineas as Ferb had never seen him before. This alternate version of the boy he knew so well was wild-looking – in a stylish way. His deep blue eyes were soft, unlike Adyson's, but questioning and calculating. His bright ginger hair was spiked up at ridiculously pointy angles, and he wore an orange shirt and a chain on his jeans.

"Phineas?" Ferb asked.

"That's me." Phineas' eyes searched Ferb's face. "It's good to hear your voice," he said, after a long minute. "The Ferb I know hasn't spoken in years."

He then knelt down beside the body lying between them.

Ferb shrank back, and Phineas put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, little bro. He lived a good life, and died a good death. What is there to be afraid of? He's not gone, only moved on."

Ferb shivered, and said nothing. The boy lying there, dead, was his sister's boyfriend – Jeremy Johnson. He had seen him alive and well in the first dimension just yesterday –

"What are you doing here?" Phineas asked.

Ferb opened his mouth – he had to start somewhere. "Do you know Vanessa Doofenshmirtz?"

Phineas flinched, and tightened his grip on Adyson. "No," he said, as Adyson's pink face grew more flushed. "I mean – yes – I just – Adyson, honey, _calm down!"_

Phineas' knuckles faded to white, he was gripping Adyson so hard.

"Yeah, I know her," he said, looking at Ferb but not lessening his pressure on Adyson. "She's the daughter of the dictator that held us in slavery and terror for so long. Why?"

Ferb blinked. "No reason. Where is she?"

"One second," Phineas said, then put his lips to Adyson's ear and whispered something. After a minute's frantic conversation, he released her, and answered Ferb. "Vanessa Doofenshmirtz is in the Tri-state prison. Level two, east side, room 104 - top security. Where she belongs."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Reviews make my happy :)<strong>


	5. Try and Fail

Chapter Four

Try and Fail

"Level two, east side, room one-o-four."

Ferb darted forward and pressed himself against a mossy wall, feeling cold sweat bead below his hairline. It was too easy.

Yes, too easy. That was what was bothering him. The hairs on his arms were bristling, lifting in the icy wind howling through the ruined street.

The whole city was a wreck. Ferb figured that was the reason the jail wasn't well guarded – if this was basically a ghost town, who could take care of prisoners? Still – they wouldn't be _prisoners_ if no one was keeping them in. And Phineas had mentioned that room 104 was top security. So why was this so easy?

Why could he scale the wall without being detected, why did the barbed wire do nothing more than cut his skin? Why was it so easy to navigate the eerie, crumbling walls and corridors of the prison? And why was it so… empty? There were no inmates.

Except, Vanessa had to be here. She _had _to be.

Ferb put a hand to his waist to stop the files and wrenches hanging from his tool belt from clanking. The silence seemed ancient. Who was he to break it?

That's when he saw the shadow.

It was a guard, or something – but whatever it was, Ferb was sure he didn't want to meet it. He darted around a corner, but another shadow was waiting for him at the end of the hall. He couldn't see who or what was casting the dark spot on the wall, but he was afraid.

His future hung by a thread. Vanessa was only meters away. He only had to break her out, and then –

"We're coming to get you, Doofenshmirtz-supporter."

Ferb whipped around at the sound, shivers bouncing along his spine. The sound of the threat echoed around the cement building, spiced with a hint of laugher. Worst of all, he felt he recognized the voice – he _knew_ he recognized the voice.

"Adyson?" he called.

"Shouldn't give away your position," said another, sadder voice. That was Phineas. "It just makes it easier for us."

"What?"

A fist connected with the base of his skull and flattened him against the ground. Before he could take another breath, there were two hands at his throat, and a knee crushing his chest –

Ferb opened his eyes, and saw Adyson's flushed, sunburned face, surrounded by sweaty brown locks of hair,

Phineas stepped around the corner of the crumbling wall, and Ferb sighed with relief. Phineas seemed much more easy-going… he'd do something to stop Adyson, like he had before.

As if reading the captive's mind, Phineas shook his head. "Sorry," he whispered, and then drew a knife.

"I keep my promises," he said in a soft, dry voice. "I promised Adyson we'd come and capture you. I promised my country I wouldn't let evil take over again."

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><p>Ferb would've liked to say he blacked out there. He would've loved to let the world fade, right then. His captors knocked him on the head plenty – enough to send him into a fuzzy half-world where only the pain in his body was real – but he couldn't lose consciousness. It wasn't that easy.<p>

After a while, after some kicks and well-aimed punches, Ferb could offer no more resistance. He felt like his whole body was one bruise – both his eyes must be black, all his bones splintered. Then Phineas and Adyson dragged him over stones and through the streets, not bothering to avoid sharp snags of metal on the ground. It was only when a steady trail of blood marked the places they had been that they picked the battered boy up.

They carried him underground. Ferb could tell, through the haze of agony and his closed eyelids, that the light was darkening. The air was damper and colder here, too – it was a comforting feeling on his wounds.

They flung him down in a chair, and he had no energy to keep himself up. They tied him in a sitting position, and left the room.

Time lost meaning. Hours or days? Minutes, perhaps? Ferb drifted from island of pain to island of pain, drifting in a cloud of fright.

* * *

><p>Something hard and stiff prodded Ferb's chest, gently pushing the skin right above his heart. His eyes snapped open, and he looked down to see the sleek black barrel of a gun caressing him.<p>

"No," said a high voice he recognized instantly. "Not the heart, he won't die fast enough. Head, Adyson."

The gun pushed against Ferb's forehead hungrily, and his heart started racing.

"No – wait!"

The words were cracked and dry, the British accent extremely pronounced in the moment of panic. "Wait!"

"Why should we wait?" Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, clad in dark greys and greens, stepped into the pool of light surrounding Ferb. The Isabella Garcia-Shapiro from the second dimension. Much prettier than her alternate self and ten times as tough.

"Why should we wait?" she sighed and ran a hand over her face. "I know you. You're Fletcher, Ferb Fletcher, alternate dimension, quiet guy, British born. Didn't think you'd be a Doofenshmirtz supporter, but I guess that goes to show you: you can't judge a Norm-bot by its head. Kill him, Adyson."

"NO! LISTEN!"

The gun dropped slightly, so it was staring him in the eyes, and Ferb fumbled for words under its malevolent stare.

"I-I'm not a Doofenshmirtz supporter," he said, his voice quiet even in the moment of terror. "The Doofenshmirtz in my dimension is friendly. But if your Doofenshmirtz is the cause of any pain or trouble, then I don't support him."

"More talkative when you're in mortal danger," Adyson said mockingly, and Ferb's eyes flicked to her, then back to Isabella.

"Not a Doofenshmirtz supporter?" Isabella asked, a note of disbelief in her high voice. "Why were you trying to get his daughter out of prison, then?"

"It's not information I feel like sharing with the general public," Ferb said.

"Reaaaaly?" The word was drawn out and contemptuous. "You're gonna have to better than that, Fletcher."

"I'll tell Candace."

Isabella went pale. "_That's_ almost as scary as facing the gun, soldier. She lost Johnson a couple days ago."

"I – I know. How's she talking it?"

"Fine, if by fine you mean a little worse than a bear losing her cubs."

"Were they dating?"

Isabella laughed. "You think our leader, Candace Flynn, the greatest Firestorm Girl of all, the one who won fifty fights in a day, is affected by the lost of a love interest? First-dimensioners are_ so_ naïve. Johnson was one of our best soldiers. Without him, our Resistance hasn't got much hope."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Ferb said. "Who are you resisting if Doofenshmirtz gave up being evil?"

"Stop talking, Fletcher, you'll hurt yourself." Isabella tapped her fist against her leg in a thoughtful manner. "You're here to be executed. You've pled innocent. And if I know Adyson, her trigger finger is getting a little itchy. So, we decide now: do we kill him, or do we let him live?"

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><p><strong>Too fast-paced? What do you think? Sorry for the delay.<strong>

**Reviews? :)**


	6. Conviction

**I changed the summary, before that confuses anyone. It's just, I don't have too very many readers (but the ones I have absolutely rock), and I was trying to hook some more :)**

**Sorry this was so long in coming!**

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><p>Chapter Five<p>

Conviction

"Tell us why you're here," Isabella said, leaning down, "And we might consider letting you get away with your brain in one piece."

Ferb shuddered – the thought of _Isabella,_ the sweet little neighbor girl on Maple Drive, blowing his head off with a rifle made him want to throw up.

But still, he said nothing.

The barrel of the gun poked his forehead again, brushing his sweaty green hair aside.

He clenched his teeth, relenting inside. This was stupid. He would just confess, it wasn't that big a deal.

He heard the safety click off.

"I'll tell you," he said.

The safety didn't go back on until Isabella nodded. Then Adyson slowly lowered the gun, till it was pointed at Ferb's feet. It was still a bit unsettling, but he swallowed his terror and spoke.

"You'll think badly of me, I'm afraid, when I'm done telling you this. I realize romance has no place here –"

Adyson shook her head, lip curling, and Isabella put a hand on her shoulder without looking away from Ferb. "Keep talking."

"I came here because I'm in love. The girl I admired – Vanessa Doofenshmirtz -died in my dimension. Hear me out," he added, because at the name "Doofenshmirtz," both girls had let out a soft growl.

"She's still alive here, I understand," he said. "I came to find her and – and win her."

"A romantic," Isabella observed sarcastically, but there was a hint of hesitation in her voice. "If that's really why you're here, then you _are_ an idiot. But I don't see a reason we should believe you."

"Nor do I," Ferb said. "But I swear, I'm innocent of anything you'd accuse me of. I have broken no laws."

"Except for the minor detail – you got into our prison without permission."

"I admit it – I'm sorry – but I –" he stopped, and then plunged on recklessly. "I fail to see why I should regard you as _on my side_. Do you want to spare an innocent? Then spare him. I haven't tried to re-instate evil, as Phineas suspected, but why should I believe you yourselves are not evil? You've imprisoned Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, and I can vouch for her innocence. You've also taken me here, though I committed only a small offence, while I was steeped in what I believed to be righteous anger."

Confused, Adyson spewed a few of the fouler words in the dictionary, but Isabella looked shaken – as if Ferb's words had rattled her.

"I see," she faltered. "The Firestorm Girls and I are gonna – figure this out. Come on, Addy."

Adyson followed Isabella out of a heavy metal door, and Ferb was left tied to his chair.

Ferb was completely awake now – the potential of being shot grated on his senses, amplifying every scratch on his body unbearably. And there were thousands of injuries all over him, ranging from tiny scrapes on his forearms to deep, jagged gashes along his back – the floor beneath him was slick with blood. His sneakers were stained red.

But it was shock that hurt him the most. Phineas – _his brother's counterpart_ – and Adyson – _his friend's counterpart_ – had beaten him up and dragged him here, to meet a group of girls he knew and be shot, because he apparently supported his girlfriend's dad. What had gone so terribly wrong in this world?

Ferb summoned all his energy and struggled against the ropes binding him to the chair. They held firm, but, studying them, he could see that they had been tied hastily.

_Start small,_ he thought, and wiggled his right hand. He moved it up and down, side to side, however he could, until his wrist became bloody with the chafing.

And then it was free.

Of course, once Ferb's hand was free, his quick fingers didn't take long to pick out the knots in the rope.

He let the restraints fall silently around him, then knelt to the cold, smooth ground. His instincts told him to stay low, and, besides, from this position, he could hear the voices of the troop of Firestorm Girls Isabella had mentioned on the other side of the door if he listened hard enough.

He crept closer, and put his ear to the crack at the bottom of the heavy door.

"What are you _thinking?"_ Adyson was asking.

"I know." Isabella, sounding unsure. "But if we get Vanessa out –"

Ferb's heart leapt into his throat, and he laid his head on the ground, ear to the crack under the door.

A girl – Gretchen, he knew her from his own dimension – was speaking. "It's a major violation of our laws. Helping a Doofenshmirtz out of prison? Are you out of your mind?"

"Ferb said she was innocent," Isabella replied.

"Yeah, well, how are we supposed to know he's telling the truth?"

"Don't you remember him? Come on! Alternate Phineas and him, they were here a couple of years ago. I _know _you remember. They were great! They were the ones that brought Doofenshmirtz down, did you forget that?"

There was a pause, and then Isabella spoke again, and Ferb was startled to hear tears in her voice. "I just feel like we're doing _nothing_. We all know we've failed, big time. Jeremy's murder is just proof – we're not really doing anything to stop the gangs."

There was another uncomfortable silence.

"I really, really wanna do the right thing here. Don't you? Can't we help two innocent people find love?" Isabella sighed.

"Ugh, cut the romance movie stuff." Gretchen again.

"Didn't we _like_ that romance movie? Weren't we all glad it made it onto the TV that one night the the cable was working?"

"Isabella's right." Ferb got another shock – Adyson was speaking up in favor of love? The same Adyson that just tried to kill him?

"All in favor of freeing Vanessa and letting Fletcher live?.. All against?"

Ferb heard footsteps, and scrambled backwards, till he was sitting on the battered, bloody chair again. He left the ropes off, though – just waiting with folded hands.

Isabella stepped out of the door, followed by a small group of girls, all clothed in grey, green, and black.

"You got out," Adyson observed, but her voice wasn't ferocious like it had been before. It was more sullen – as if she was disappointed she wouldn't be able to kill Ferb, but had resigned herself to the pause in bloodshed.

"Yeah," Isabella agreed. "You got out of the ropes, and you sort of got out of the death sentence, too. And, with any luck, your girlfriend will be outta prison soon."

Ferb swallowed. "Why such a violent mood swing?"

"Listen, Fletcher." Isabella sighed. "There isn't gonna be any more playing around. This place is a war zone, we had to be sure you weren't a traitor. And, no offence, but you sure looked like a traitor, breaking into the prison like that. But, from now on, you're part of our troop, if you'll join."

"Who else is in the troop? What are your aims? What must I contribute?"

Isabella rubbed her forehead. "You're smart. I like that. The Firestorm Troop is the division of the Resistance set aside for younger people – twenty and under. I'm the leader, but, you know, I answer to other members of the Resistance who are older than me. The Firestorm Troop, all together, are all these girls here, as well as Phineas Flynn, The Ferb Fletcher that lives in this dimension, and Baljeet Rai. Buford VanStomm used to be in, but he died a year ago. As for what our aims are – like I said, this whole place is a war zone. Ever since Doofenshmirtz fell, there's been no one to rule the tri-state area. We were trying to figure out who the rightful ruler is, but before we could, tons of gangs started forming all over the place, trying to take control. Now there are just wild criminals running all over, keeping the civilians inside and terrorizing everyone. Some of them try to break Doofenshmirtz out of prison, but most are just happy with the way things are. There are tons of innocent people left, it's just, they don't have a leader, and they're scared to do anything besides bribe the gangs to stay away from them. We do our best to keep them safe, but – it doesn't always work."

"Are you sure this is _Danville?_" Ferb said, mind reeling.

"Yeah, kid, it's Danville. Now if you wanna join this troop, you've gotta train hard, maybe go out on one or two missions. In exchange, we'll help you get your girlfriend outta jail – if she really is innocent."

Ferb nodded slowly, then held out his hand. "Fair enough. I'm in."

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><p><strong>Yeah... is it going too fast? Reviews are MUCH appreciated. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	7. Author's Note

Hey everyone, PhoenixWormwood137 here.

I'm really sorry, but I've decided not to continue with this story. My biggest apologies. I'm putting this up because I want to delete it (I feel bad having a story I haven't completed on my profile) but I didn't want to do it without warning you guys. You were really amazing reviewers and I'm so sorry that I'm giving up. If you want me to keep the story on the site for whatever reason, that's okay, just review and tell me. Thanks again.

-Phoenix


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